Chains of Retribution Bloodstone Medical Center - Part 3: Moving Forward

Status
Not open for further replies.
"Seriously...?" Aimee just shook her head as Bastien grabbed the phone to head off to find Ragenard. Her gaze shifted around towards the rest of the pack that happened to be within the same room and she couldn't help but tug a little on a strand of hair. She knew better than to go against orders, but what if her father was in danger? Why hadn't Jacques taken his cell phone? Was he planning on slipping away and if so, for what purpose? Maybe he went home to get fresh clothing? No, that would be stupid; he would have told someone. Sighing, Aimee headed for the door, needing some fresh air. Stepping outside, the nineteen-year-old tilted back her head, letting her black hair cascade across her back, the bangs not currently in her Prussian blue eyes, which were full of worry for her father. "Damn it, Jacques."
 
As people were beginning to disperse and settle in the sound of a motorcycle rumbled to a stop outside before falling silent. It was a curiosity given that all of the pack was already present. Perhaps Jacques was returning?

The man who dismounted the bike wasn't Jacques though. It was a man that the youngest of the pack wouldn't recognize, or who would have retained only vague childhood memories of. Draaven Degare. Gone from the pack for twelve years now without a word or trace of him since his departure.

He removed his helmet and hung it over the handlebars of the bike before heading around the back.

"Mathis? James?" he called out cautiously as he rounded the corner.

The one he encountered was no one he recognized, as Aimee had been only seven years old when he had departed.

He paused in his path keeping a healthy distance.

"Is Mathis here?" he inquired.
 
Luka didn't know whether to wait on the motorcycle or to follow his father inside. Nervousness gnawed at his stomach.
What if they do end up furious at dad, he thought anxiously. He realized he could be at the scene of another future crime and the pesky thought did nothing to ease his fears.
 
"Pretty sure I already got enough hard feelin's in," replied Ragenard with a snort.

"You did what you thought you had to, and you did it at the proper timing. If it works out, I'll buy you a drink. If you try something like that without my approval going forward, I just bite your head off," he continued while patting his pockets in search of his cigarettes. Finding a crumpled pack, he dug out the last one he had and lit it with the matches he left inside it.

"Glad you're not dead, but there's a few things we got to go over before I let you nap for a few hours. C'mon, need to gather everyone who was at Den and make sure the story we'll give the police is all straightened out and figure out who needs an alib—"

Ragenard's voice cut out as he took a half drag of his cigarette and craned his head sideways. He'd heard the faint grumble of a motorcycle die off a second ago, and took it for traffic at a nearby building since the industrial workforce would just about be starting their day, but then his nose caught a faint and vaguely familiar scent.

"Someone's here, hang tight I'll come get you when I check it out," he barked before rushing out of the room at full clip.

For a man his size, that was more than casual observation would lead one to expect. In a couple seconds, he was rushing past everyone assembled in the main room at preternatural speed and out the door, nearly bowling over Aimee who stood a short ways outside.

With a perplexed look in his face, Ragenard turned to the source of the scent he had caught. "Draaven!?"
 
Aimee's gaze shifted from the sky towards the road at the sound of a motorcycle. Was it her father? It had better be and boy was he going to get an earful from her. Well, maybe not an earful, but there would be words spoken, especially due to how worried she was growing the longer he was away. When she noted two individuals on the bike, neither one her father, the teen couldn't help but scowl in annoyance. It deepened immensely when one slid off the motorcycle and removed his helmet. Despite the face being slightly familiar, she had no real idea who the individual was and the other person on the back was a complete stranger. Before she had a chance to do anything or even say anything, she was nearly plowed over by Ragenard. Making a note that standing way too close to the door wasn't wise, she moved off a bit further, her gaze remaining on the scene unfolding in front of her. The vague familiarity was peaked a bit more when it appeared Ragenard knew him, but she still couldn't place the name or the face. Fingers ran through her hair and she glanced towards the bike and then back down the street. "...fucking Jacques." She muttered while attempting to not dwell on his whereabouts, glad there was a distraction in the new, but not new stranger guy.
 
In response to Ragenard's dash, Quinn's book was set aside and she got to her feet. To her side, Connor cast her an uncertain glance, and she shrugged. There'd been no barked orders, which she'd have expected if there was an attack, but neither had that exactly been a calm jog over to the door.

"Should we..?" Connor began, but Quinn cut him off.

"Better not. Most likely it's their business, won't want us stickin' our noses in. No worth getting worked up over it, I imagine we'll hear if things turn ugly."

Her brother nodded, sighing moodily. Right now he was just bored. He'd take being snarled at over passing totally under the radar, like they seemed to be doing now.

Across the room, Seri yawned, and after a moment's consideration, hopped down from his chair. The scrawny black cat padded out to the door in order to observe the new arrival, and gauge Ragenard's reaction to them.
 
While Luka couldn't see anyone from him place on the motorcycle, he didn't need to see the inhabitants to know they were there. He could smell them easily but he had no idea how many were inside. There could have easily been an army awaiting his father and him.
"Whoa, wait for me, dad," he called as he scrambled from the bike and rushed after his father.
 
"Ragenard," Draaven answered.

As Luka closed in from behind, Draaven waited until the boy was at his side before resting his arm around his shoulders.

"This is my son, Luka. Is Mathis around?"

Mathis. Father to Ragenard and Baron, and missing for eight years now. Draaven it would seem was just as out of loop as to the pack happenings, as the pack was to his own.

His posture remained one of caution and watchfulness. He couldn't be certain how the pack would receive him after so many years of absence.
 
A disbelieving snort escaped Ragenard at the mention of his father.

"Heh, if you manage to find him let me know, he never got back from getting the proverbial milk and cigarettes," he quipped while fumbling to re-light his extinguished smoke. His brain hadn't yet caught up to the blast from the past as he took a drag.

"Son? Did you just say Son? Fuck but you picked a hell of a time to turn up. No time to rehash the past now, shit's going sideways," He remarked before exhaling a cloud of smoke and slowly shaking his head in disbelief.

"Son. Right. Chill out and come inside so we can talk about what's got you turning back up on the homestead doorstep so to speak, and I'll explain why you might want to hop back on your bike," he exclaimed before taking another drag and peering at Draaven's son. That was a surprise, somehow he couldn't imagine the guy he remembered involved with the whole fatherhood business.

"Pa' ain't nothing but ancient history 'round here. Right now, I'm in charge. C'mon let's go, I don't want to attract undue attention out here just in case," he finished, waving Draaven and Luka inside.

"In you go too pup," he added to Aimee. "You'll have a chance to take a walk after we get a few things settled."
 
From the short time he had seen the man, Luka already began harboring a respect for Ragenard. He seemed like a good person, and so far he hadn't tried to kill him or his father. He peered past the man, trying to look into the building. It seemed run down and by all means uninhabitable.
The pack clearly didn't want nosy people butting into something they weren't involved in. Draaven had been extremely vague about the pack to him. Besides their werewolf nature, Luka wasn't quite sure who they were. He could be walking up to a building of criminals for all he knew. While the thought sent nervous tremors through his body, he couldn't help the excitement burning in his chest. Back in Arthegia, the most interesting thing in his life had been the friendly challenges between his and his friends in the schoolyard.
Now, he was in a whole different ball park, diving into the situation without knowledge of what dangers he could potentially be getting in to.
 
The small black cat sat in the entryway, watching the new arrivals with interest. They were familiar to the pack, then, if not expected. Seemingly the kid was a new development. This certainly wasn't the right place for one, that much was certain.

Seri didn't wait for Ragenard to ask before padding back into the building alongside them, making back for his perch on the chair with his curiosity having been sated.
 
Back inside--

Chloe had been startled as Ragenard raced out of the room. "The hell..?" She muttered to herself. Still, from what she had gathered, when Ragenard returned, he'd speak with them about their police story. She sighed and shook her head with a groan as she pushed herself up from the wall. Her head was pounding, and she desperately needed to sleep. Yet, she felt restless. She wanted to go for a run, or she wanted to go to the gym. Something to wear out the wolf inside her. She felt caged again.

She paced slightly, waiting for Ragenard to return.
 
Aimee lean against the wall watching and listening to the interaction between the newcomers and Ragenard. She still didn't know what to think of it, but figured it wasn't any of her business at the moment. Mostly she was just really worried about her father and where he was at and if he was okay. Glancing at Ragenard, Aimee frowned and shook her head, not liking his words. "Jacques is gone and left his phone behind. I'll be in... in a minute..." She sighed, knowing better than to argue too much.
 
Ragenard, in charge? The news was quite the revelation to Draaven. A Guiscard had always stood at the head of the pack for generations, but for Ragenard to have taken that head...

"What came of James?" he asked as he followed the others inside.
 
A deep frown crossed Ragenard's face for a moment at Aimee's comment.

"Did he now? Alright, take some air but make it quick pup," he called out to her as the door swung shut.

Another thing to add to the list, he thought. Jacques better had simply gone off to get some booze if he knew what was good for him. He shook it off his thoughts for now and turned to address Draaven,

"That depends on who you ask. Some will tell you I ate him, others that me and Baron buried him at the lake. Long story short, the old man was losing his grasp, and rather than face his sons, he slunk out of the pack. Baron took over for a few years after that," he mentioned with a sigh. "Then things went to shit in the old ways with our Scion buddies, and now he's laid up in a bed over yonder taking an unwilling nap, and I'm keeping the flea bags together."

He briefly fumbled with inhaling the last bits of his cigarette down to the filter before rolling his shoulders and cracking his knuckles.

"I got a good deal of shit to see to right now, you can get a longer version on things from someone else, and we can talk more later. The past is the past, and there's probably still a bed for your dumbass somewhere around here, soldier. If you decide to split again, be careful. The streets out there aren't safe per usual, and before I'm done they're gonna get a lot less safe," he finished with a nonchalant wave before heading off into the building to continue dealing with affairs. It would be clear to anyone watching that whatever history Draaven had with the pack, he was still acknowledged as belonging.
 
Home sweet home, Draaven thought as he trailed inside the building after Ragenard.

"Some things never change, eh?" he noted.

---​

Meanwhile back inside...

"Oi, your pacin' is gonna wear a 'ole in the floor," Desmond remarked groggily. "Ge some rest would you?" he asked.

He tried to keep himself awake for Ragenard's return, but the dancing energy that crackled along his skin at Chloe's tension proved distracting at best. Soon he had sunk back into restless sleep with dreams of the woods, and of the earth beneath his paws.
 
Desmond's rest would prove to be short lived as it didn't take all that long for Ragenard to ascertain that there was no threat to them outside. He couldn't decide however if his mood was improved or soured; having Draaven around would at least mean another set of hands he knew from experience were capable, but Jacques as usually had to fuck things up.

With a low grumble to himself he pushed into Desmond's room to find him asleep and Chloe working a new groove into the floor.

"Oi, sleeping beauty get up we got a lo--ah fuck it," he decided seeing how out of it Desmond was, and how comically his legs were twitching minutely like a puppy running through a field.

Instead her turned to address Chloe.

"Quit ruining our floors," he grunted at her. "He's useless right now, so you'll have to do. Make sure he knows the cuzes are his responsibility to keep out of trouble. If any of 'em barge in here angrily," he paused with a snort at some private thought, "specially that firebrand sassy one, they're his problem. You can tell them they can stay, and after we all get a rest, we'll see what they can do without fucking things up too much."

A half suppressed yawn escaped Ragenard, and he shivered slightly as a tingling rand up and down his spine, making him think of blue. A frown creased his brown before he continued.

"Four hours. We can all do with some shut eye. Get some rest alongside the lump," he finished before quietly departing, not giving Chloe a chance to respond in the brief exchange.
 
Chloe had stopped as ordered, listening to what he had to say. She was going to ask about when they were going to talk about the police and how to get their story when he left.

She was mentally exhausted, though. She sighed and walked back over to Desmond, sitting with her back against the bed and closed her eyes. Eventually sleep would take her.

---

Skye had been heading that direction towards Desmond's room when Ragenard left. She tilted her head at the larger man, as she aimed to walk past. "Ya look like you're about to fall over." She commented as she went by. "Ain't seen Brendan, 'ave ya?" She asked, expecting a quick yes or no.
 
Skye nodded at the air in response. Quietly she peeked into Desmond's room and saw Chloe settled on the floor and the conked out half wit cousin of hers, but not the other half of that wit. With a silent sigh, she sat with her back against the wall, deciding to wait it out for Brendan to show up again.
 
Status
Not open for further replies.
Back
Top